We were never stones.
We were never the spider’s abdomen
silhouetted against the moon.
We were never the desert
or the prickly pear. We were never
the doctor holding the knife
to the flame. We were never
the flame. We were never the calm expanse
of a clear, wooden desk.

We were never salt
or sand. We were never the mole,
who tunnels underground,
who places his small breakable back
so eagerly beneath the earth.